


Lust in Love and Vengeance

by msmarvel1 (quietprofanity)



Series: Lust in Love and Vengeance Trilogy [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, The Author Wrote This as a Sixteen Year Old Virgin I'm Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietprofanity/pseuds/msmarvel1
Summary: Peter Parker seeks comfort with Harry Osborn in the wake of Gwen Stacy's death.





	Lust in Love and Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic springs off from the events of The Amazing Spider-Man #122, from there it becomes AU.
> 
> Thank you Amy for being a really great Beta reader, and thank you Sazu for all your encouragement.

Peter Parker stared at the trembling, pathetic figure on the bed. He had come to Norman Osborn’s townhouse looking for answers and it had become clear that the confused Harry Osborn didn’t know those answers. In fact, he was so sick from the LSD he had taken earlier, that he didn’t know much of anything.

"Who are you?" Harry cried. "You’re not my father! You’ve taken him somewhere, haven’t you?"

Peter was about to leave when Harry grasped his hand.

"Wait! Don’t I know you? Sure, sure! You’re Peter. You ARE Peter, aren’t you?"

"Yes Harry, I’m Peter," explained the angry young man. He turned to go again; he didn’t have time to play nurse. Norman Osborn had murdered his beloved Gwen Stacy and he was going to pay now!

"Peter!" called Harry. "Don’t go, Peter!" He pulled himself out of bed and stumbled after him. Peter couldn't leave. It had been so long since he had seen a familiar face. Gwen and Mary Jane had left hours ago and his father had disappeared soon after. He didn’t want to be left alone again. He pleaded and pleaded but Peter kept on towards the door. Harry decided to try one last time.

"Please, Peter!" he called from the top of the stairs. Harry gripped the banister and struggled to pull himself up on his gel-like legs. "Don’t leave me like this! Don’t leave me Pete-eer!" Harry shrieked as he lost his footing and fell forward.

Peter’s spider-sense blared. He spun around at lightening speed, catching Harry mid-way down the steps. Harry cried out at the shock of the fall and grasped onto Peter.

"Calm down! I’ve got you." Peter explained.

Harry kept quiet, but he was still shaking like a leaf as he clutched his friend. Peter sighed. He really didn't want to do this right now but it was obvious that Harry wouldn’t be able to get back to the bed on his own.

"Come on, Harry," Peter said in a tone more impatient than encouraging. "Stand up on your own, I’ll get you into your room."

Harry’s feet struggled to find their footing, but succeeded only in slipping off whatever steps they tried to come in contact with.

"One foot on the steps," Peter snapped. "There, right there. No, there. Jeez! You know what? This isn’t working. Here, loosen your grip for a minute, I’ll carry you up the-"

"Stop yelling at me!" Harry screamed. He pushed himself out of Peter's arms with a sudden jolt and fell on the steps in a heap. "I’m trying, for God’s sake. I always try you know that? I do try but it’s never good enough." Harry turned his head away and crossed his arms angrily.

Peter sighed. He really had been selfish. Gwen may have been dead, but Harry was still his friend. It was his responsibility to help him. "I’m sorry, Harry. Come on. Just hang onto me. I’ll get you upstairs."

He grabbed Harry’s hand and slowly pulled him up, taking care not to go to quickly. Harry wobbled for a second; Peter feared he would fall again, but after leaning on Peter and taking a few deep breaths, Harry was able to stand upright.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Harry sighed with relief.

"Great! Okay, let’s go upstairs. One foot in front of the other."

Harry slung his arm around Peter’s neck and Peter grasped him about the waist. Leaning most of his weight on Peter, step by slow step Harry reached the top of the stairs.  
Peter began to pull Harry towards his room. "Let’s get you in."

"Peter, I want to rest here."

"Huh? The room’s only a few feet away."

"No…sick of that room…here." Harry clumsily sat down at the top of the stairs.  
Peter groaned. Getting him up here was one thing, but he had to find Norman. "Harry, I need to leave. I want to get you in bed before…"

"Leave?" Harry seemed shocked that this idea had appeared again. "Peter, please don’t. I’m so sick of being left alone here."

Peter looked away from Harry’s pained face. "Harry, I have to go."

"Why?"

"I… look, I can’t explain, but it’s really important." Peter said as he started off again.  
Harry scoffed angrily. "That’s what they always say," he grumbled.

Peter’s hand curled into a tight fist. "Look. I just can’t explain. So much has happened. You have no idea what I’ve been through I… I…," his lip trembled. He couldn’t continue.  
Harry’s face blanched in worry. He didn’t know what, but he could see that something was wrong with his friend. He stood up. "What’s going on?"

"It’s nothing, I…"

"No, something is wrong. I can see it!"

"You can’t see anything! Nothing is wrong." Peter frowned angrily. "Look, I… I just need to…"

With a shaky hand, Harry reached forward and grabbed the trim of Peter’s jacket. He looked into those hazel eyes that revealed a world of pain. "It’s okay, Peter. No matter what’s wrong, I’m here. I can help you."

Help him? Who could help him? The muscles of Peter’s face wrenched together as he tried to stop his tears. His head bowed in shame and hurt. Before he knew what was happening, Peter’s resolve snapped like a rubber band and he drowned into a sea of howl-like sobs.

"Oh, Peter…" Harry bent down and threw his arms around his friend. "It’s okay. It’ll all be fine."

"If only it could be, Har," Peter hugged him tighter. His face buried into Harry’s shoulder. His tears soaked Harry’s nightclothes. "Nothing’s all right," he choked. He started to say more, but stopped when he felt Harry’s trembling fingers running through his hair.

"It’s okay, Peter…"

"Harry…"

"Don’t cry. Just tell me what’s wrong."

Peter wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "It’s… It’s Gwen. She… She’s gone!"

Harry sighed in sympathy. "She left you? Aw, Pete! I’m sorry…"

Peter sniffled. God! He wished that were it. If only it was. He slowly raised his head and faced Harry. Harry’s face was drenched with sweat from his sickness; dark circles hung around eyes that had seen no sleep.

"There," Harry soothed. "It’s okay. There’ll be others, Pete."

A wave of guilt hit Peter. Harry was so sick, yet he still tried to help Peter with his problems. He could still see the pain Peter was in.

"Harry?"

"Yes?" he asked.

"Thank you. I’m… I’m sorry."

Harry grinned. "Hey…" he placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder. "What are friends for?"  
Peter’s warm smile answered Harry’s question. He looked into Harry’s eyes. They were a soft blue, only a shade darker than the sky.

"Gwen’s eyes," Peter thought. "The same color as Gwen’s." Strange, he’d known Harry so long and never noticed their color, their shine. They were beautiful.

Harry sighed. He felt so content. He was glad Peter had stayed and even more happy that he was able to help him. It sounded so stupid, even to him, but when he was able to help the people he cared about, it made him feel worthwhile.

And even more important, it made him feel loved.

They didn’t know why, but in that moment, the two felt so close to each other. Not only close in a best friends bond, but also close in some deeper, subtle way. It seemed like the two of them could feel each other’s pain. They could feel their need for comfort in their dark hour.

"I’m sorry I tried to leave before, Harry."

"It’s okay, Pete. I’m just glad you’re here now."

"Yeah, I am too."

Harry laughed. "It’s okay if we sit here a little while longer, right?"

"Sure, that’s fine."

"Cool." Harry leaned back against the banister of the stairs and sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, then, for no particular reason at all, looked up and down at the house around him. "Funny thing…"

"What?" asked Peter.

"About houses."

"Huh?"

"I’m just thinking about the fact that sometimes, when this house is full of people it can feel so small. During my Dad’s parties, especially ones where there’d be other kids that I could play with, the mansion didn’t seem large at all. Yet in quiet times when there’d be nothing to do and my Dad was busy working, the mansion would feel enormously large. Like it was miles long and could go on forever."

Peter shrugged, "I can’t say I ever had that experience. I’ve always grown up in my aunt and late uncle’s house. In fact, it was kind of the opposite. It was really small, but it felt very large, sometimes. Usually because of the atmosphere."

"And the fact that you never left your bloody house when you were little," teased Harry.

"Oh, and you were Mr. Social Butterfly who went everywhere?"

"No… but I played sports."

"Big deal. I took walks."

"To the library."

"And other places."

"To the museum."

"And other places!"

"Back home."

"How would you know?"

"I’m just going from what you told me," Harry pointed out. "We never knew each other when we were little."

Peter smiled. "How could we have? We practically came from two different worlds. I’m surprised we ever became friends."

"Yeah, me too," Harry nodded.

"You were always a lot more popular than I ever was in school. And you had so much growing up."

Harry sighed sadly. "Sometimes I think you had a lot more," he whispered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, Pete. Nothing."

Peter stared at Harry for a minute, then shrugged. The two of them sighed, then looked at each other in surprise at the coincidence. Silence hung around them again.

"I kind of see what you mean about the house thing," Peter said.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, now that I think on it, this house seems kind of large right now."

"I know, that’s what made me think of it. It’s really quiet now."

"Kind of feels like…"

"… We’re the only people left in the world."

Peter blinked, then looked Harry in the eyes. "Yeah, exactly."

Harry nodded gravely.

The silence came again. The clock ticked; their hearts beat. Their eyes never strayed from each other. It seemed like they could feel the air that hung between them. But not only that, something else too… something they suspected but were afraid to name. It felt a bit like a longing, but more than that. Almost like a desire that they had felt before. Harry had felt it with Mary Jane, and Peter had felt it with Gwen. Could it be?

Peter bit his lip pensively. "It’s just his eyes," he told himself. "They remind me of Gwen’s and I’m not myself right now. It’s not like I’m… No! I can’t be! I remember that time when…" Peter shuddered at the memory. He recalled the time when he had been friends with this older kid, Steven "Skip" Westcott. Skip had been kind to Peter at first, but later began doing "experiments" with him. Peter hated even thinking about that time, so there was no possible way he could be attracted to Harry.

Then again, Harry wasn’t Skip. He definitely wasn’t. Not only that, but Peter knew himself much better now than he ever had when he was twelve years old. Yet he wondered to himself: did he know if this emotion he felt was love?

Harry was wondering the same thing. He quickly looked Peter over, trying not to make his action too obvious. He tried not to sigh. Harry had to admit that if you squinted right, Peter could be a pretty nice looking guy. Okay, that was an understatement, Peter WAS nice looking. Especially if you compared him to his scrawny younger self that Harry had seen in Peter’s yearbooks. He didn’t know what it was (he would have tried it himself if he’d known) but Peter had really bloomed over the years. His muscles had grown to an admirable size and he’d stopped wearing his glasses, transforming him from the stereotypical "geek" into a cute, if not handsome young man.

This wasn’t a new thought for Harry and it had come up every so often when the two of them would be alone together. They could be in a movie theater, eating out at a diner or even just watching TV in the apartment they shared together, and the physical beauty of Peter would cross his mind. He had passed it off as envy or told himself that he didn’t even like Peter’s looks and it was just a manifestation of the traits that he admired in his friend. Though as he looked at Peter’s face and saw the same far-off, nervous look which he was sure his own face was showing Harry wondered if his feelings were what he had always feared them to be.

The two best friends finally broke their gaze and looked away from each other. Without conscious thought, they slowly edged closer to each other. Their hearts beat quickly, the clock’s ticking continued relentlessly.

Peter gulped. He was a brave man. He had gone up against so much in his life, both as Peter Parker and Spider-Man. Still this thought, this feeling scared him more than any super-villain could. But despite that fear, he couldn’t refuse it. He had to know if his feeling was true. He held his breath as he slowly slipped his hand under Harry’s, feeling its warm, callused touch.

Harry’s eyes widened in shock; Peter’s heart skipped a beat as he waited for rejection, but that rejection never came. Peter gasped as he felt Harry’s fingers slowly intertwine with his own. "Harry…" he whispered.

"Um…" Harry said. He removed his hand. "Sorry…"

"No, it’s okay." Peter slowly held out his hand.

After a pause, Harry took it. He inhaled deeply as he slowly massaged Peter’s smooth fingers. "This is… this is kind of nice."

"Yeah," agreed Peter. "Really nice…"

They didn’t say anything more; they just sat there, holding hands. Harry took a deep breath, then took his friend’s hand and brought it to his mouth. Peter sighed; his kisses felt like warm raindrops. He reached out his free hand and stroked Harry’s cheek. Harry closed his eyes contentedly. Despite their serene outer appearance, their hearts pounded against their chests. Neither one of them could believe how great the other’s love felt nor could they believe that they actually had the guts to experience it.

The two best friends stopped and stared into each other’s eyes.

"Harry…"

"Yes?"

"What are we doing?"

Harry laughed. "I’m not sure, Pete. I… I like it though."

"Yeah," Peter smiled. "So do I."

There was another pause, and then Harry spoke once more. "You know, it’s funny."

"What is?"

"Well, I was wondering for a… um, never mind."

"No, what is it?"

"Um… well, I was just thinking for some stupid reason that I… that I wanted to… um… k-kiss you."

The statement froze Peter. He blinked, then slowly nodded.

"You mean you wanted to…?"

Peter realized what he had just done and went red. "Um, well… I… What I meant was… um… um… yes."

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at that last word. "Yes? You… you mean it?"

"I… I do."

Harry slowly edged closer, then pulled Peter towards him. Peter closed his eyes and opened his mouth slightly to receive Harry’s kiss. He gasped as Harry’s tongue slowly invaded the wet cavity, running along his teeth, pressing against his own tongue. The way Peter felt was ineffable. The kiss was perfect! Delicious. He leaned his head back to better feel the pressure of Harry’s mouth. He slid his tongue under Harry’s and slowly began to massage it.

"Mmmm…" Harry muttered in pleasure. He couldn’t remember when a kiss had felt so satisfying! No one had ever kissed him like this. Peter seemed to not only fulfill his desires, but raise his confidence at the same time. Through this kiss he could feel his earlier uneasiness turn into pure love. 

After a few minutes the two dislodged themselves. Their chests rose and fell rapidly as they gasped for air. Peter finally broke the lull.

"So you weren’t just bragging when you said you kissed like a bandit?"

Harry blushed, remembering his ridiculous jokes to Peter about him being a "ladies’ man." 

"Ehh… the girls never complained, did they?"

Peter chuckled a little, then pulled Harry towards him, giving him another deep kiss. It was much longer this time and when they finished they lay upon each other’s shoulders in an embrace. They listened to each other’s heartbeat, learned the rhythm of their breathing. Nothing in the world ever felt so perfect, so right.

Harry held Peter tighter nearly crushing the young man against him. As he ran his hand through Peter’s hair, he knew in his heart that he wanted more of this moment. He wanted more of his friend. Harry pressed his thin lips to his friend’s ear and whispered softly.

"I want us to sleep together."

Peter started and pushed himself away. "Harry, we can’t do that," he said in a tone more solemn than disbelieving.

"Huh? Why not? We’ve just kissed. We can go further if we want to!"

Peter shook his head. "I… I don’t know, Harry. I… "

Harry blinked when Peter never finished his thought. "You what?" he asked.

Peter sighed. He didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, he loved Harry a lot. He WAS his best friend, after all, and tonight he was quickly becoming more than that. He wanted to love Harry that way, as well. God, he couldn’t believe it, but the feeling of Harry in his arms made him really want to. Still, could these feelings even now be just a delusion? Were they just whimsies that emerged from his grief?

Still… his feelings he had no qualms about risking. He and Harry could probably work it out if their actions proved to later be a mistake. Also, he had missed so much with his former girlfriends: Liz Allen, Betty Brant, and now his beloved Gwen Stacy. There were so many lost chances… so many mistakes. Did he want to do the same with Harry? Did he want to miss what could be an important chance?

No, he decided. He didn’t.

Harry’s mouth formed a wide smile as Peter removed his old leather jacket, then picked the both of them off the floor.

What happened next seemed like an insane dream.

The two best friends fell into each other’s arms. Peter’s mouth pushed Harry back against the door to his bedroom. Harry thrust his groin towards Peter’s as his hand struggled with the doorknob.

"Harry!" Peter moaned as the door swung open and they flung themselves onto the bed. Harry crushed Peter against his chest, slowly moving his hands down under Peter’s sweater. Peter’s spider-sense tingled. His costume!

"Wait! I’d… I’d feel more comfortable taking off my clothes myself."

Harry looked surprised, but then shrugged and murmured an okay as he turned off the light and began to undress himself. Peter quickly and carefully stripped, rolling up his spandex costume under his clothes and taking care not to turn them inside out. He folded his clothing into a neat pile as Harry finished.

"Are we ready?" Harry asked.

"Almost…" Peter reached into the pockets of his folded jeans and retrieved two condoms.

"What were you doing with those?"

"They were for, um…"

"Oh… her. Never mind."

Harry moved next to Peter, paused for a moment, then reached over and ran his fingers down Peter’s sex. After a few slow, hard strokes, Peter felt a strong, longing sensation and he became erect. He slipped the condom over his penis, then turned and helped Harry.

They were ready.

Peter’s heart raced as he felt Harry’s arms wrap around his chest. He’d hugged Harry before, as a friend and tonight as a lover. However, to be naked, feeling Harry’s bare chest against his own was truly a wonder. He couldn’t imagine anything more sensual or loving.

"What should we do?" asked Harry.

Peter thought for a minute, "Um… how about we rub against each other. I… I don’t really want to do anything too drastic."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Sounds really great."

The two of them kissed intimately as they climbed under the covers. Peter hooked his leg around Harry’s, drawing him in closer.

"You want to be on top?" Peter asked.

"Um, okay." Harry took a deep breath and climbed on top of Peter, his heart beating wildly as he did so. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was nervous or excited, but he knew this was what he wanted. Harry gripped Peter’s muscular shoulders and started to thrust his friend.

The hard movement of Harry’s sex against his own made Peter gasp. His movements hadn’t been quick, but the feeling of him had been enough to set Peter off. Peter rubbed his hands against his lover’s chest, delighting in the feel of his hard nipples. He pushed back against Harry with his own hard cock.

Harry moaned at the delicious sensation. "Peter!" he cried. God! Harry loved this. It seemed inconceivable that he ever could do something like this, but here he was. It was he pushing against his best friend, he sucking Peter’s lips, he clasping onto Peter. And Harry was glad it was he. In the back of his mind, he knew that there could be consequences to his actions, but the here and now had always mattered to Harry more than the future, and the now couldn’t have been better! "Yes, Peter! Do more of that! Go quicker!"

The rocking of Harry’s hips against his own drove Peter insane and it was becoming more difficult to go against him. In a burst of passion, Peter threw Harry back and flung himself upon him. Harry laughed in surprise and joy. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this.

Peter could feel the passion in him rapidly rising. He felt enraptured in it. It enlivened him and his love and lust for Harry. All hesitation and fear had gone from him, and he could tell as Harry fought against Peter that it was gone from his friend as well. He fully enjoyed their carnal acts, their shameful doings. He loved the feeling of Harry’s hot flesh against his own.

"I love you, Harry," he moaned.

"I-Ohhhhh!" Harry’s speech was cut off as he entered into his orgasm. He cried out as his desire consumed him, evoking the names of both Peter and the almighty. "Peter! Oh God! I love you too, Peter! Oh, God! GOD!" With a final moan, Harry grasped Peter as he felt the wonderful satisfaction of release.

Peter felt himself enter his own orgasm. He ran his hands up and down Harry, groaning as he did so. Even though it took him longer to get there he came a lot quicker. A shudder ran through him as he let go of his seed, and with a last gasp, he dropped down on the bed.  
The two lay in the bed, weak from exertion. The sound of their heavy breaths filled the room as they clung to each other.

"Nice work," whispered Harry as he ran his hand through Peter’s hair.

Peter smiled as he lay his hand on Harry’s face. He couldn’t really express how much he enjoyed it. He leaned in and kissed Harry on the lips, the collar, and the chest…

"Lower…" said Harry.

He didn’t know that Peter already had that idea. Gwen had performed this little trick on Peter before and he wanted to do the same to Harry (and also hoped that his friend would eventually return the favor). The stomach was next and finally the sex. Peter kissed him once, twice, then began to lick him. A quiver ran through Harry as he became erect. He gasped as he was sucked into the warm, dark haven of Peter's mouth.

Locking his lips around the smooth shaft, Peter began sucking Harry’s stiff organ. Slowly, meticulously he ran his tongue along it, massaging it. He closed his eyes savoring its feel and size. God! He adored it! His penis rose in envy.

Harry sighed as a wave of passion consumed his body. He arched his back in an effort of release that proved futile. He strained against his mounting pleasure, pleading for release.

Peter obeyed, bobbing his head up and down as he satisfied his companion. His heart beat wildly as Harry ran his hands down Peter’s back and slowly up into his hair. Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s body as he felt Harry climaxing. Peter smiled to himself as Harry called out his name.

Suddenly, Peter’s spider-sense screamed. His eyes shot open.

"What?" he thought to himself, his mind racing. "What could be wrong? Could Norman-"

His musings were cut off as Harry came, grasping most of Peter’s scalp in the process.

"GAAAH!" Peter pulled himself away. "HARRY!"

Harry winced when he realized what he did. "Aw, jeez! Pete, I’m sorry!"

Peter groaned and rubbed his head as he lay down on the bed. THAT set his spider-sense off? Strange, the way it went off. Usually something minuscule like that wouldn’t set off such a large reaction. His spider-sense seemed to go off more in a "Watch-Out-For-The-Sinister-Six-Behind-You" way than a "Your-Best-Friend’s-Pulling-Your-Hair" way. Then again, he probably just overreacted. His spider-sense had a tendency to be more extreme depending on his moods. Yeah, he overreacted.

"It’s okay, it didn’t really hurt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…I’m fine," Peter explained with a quick pat on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry shrugged a little. "I still feel kinda bad, though. You were really good, y’know."  
Peter felt himself blush. Harry smiled at the sight, then slowly ran his hand up Peter’s right thigh.

"I’ll make it up to you…"

Before he could say or think a thing, Peter felt Harry’s hands cup around his balls. Harry stroked them slowly. A shock of pleasure shot through Peter’s body as Harry stroked him. He moaned as Harry’s fingers tickled his flesh; his heart beat in intense desire. This was better than what he had secretly hoped for earlier.

"Please," Peter pleaded, barely knowing if he wanted less or more.

Harry’s lips locked with Peter’s. He moved his hand onto his friend’s organ, wrapping his fist around it. With swift jerks, Harry pulled on the hard cock, sending its master into passionate shudders.

Peter lay his head against the back of the bed, struggling in vain against the mounting waves of passion within him. "Oh my God!" he gasped. "Oh God…Harry!" Peter felt as if he could barely speak. His heart thundered as he felt himself orgasm.

"Kiss me," whispered Peter. Harry obeyed, consuming Peter’s mouth with his tongue. Peter grasped his lover to his chest and let his lust go.

Harry cradled Peter’s head as his friend slowly lay back on the bed. Peter gasped for air. His muscles were tense with exertion. Sweat darkened the curls above his forehead. Harry smiled. He looked pretty sweet lying there.

"C’mere," Harry said softly. He wrapped his arms around Peter. "Have I made up, now?"

Peter nodded, "Oh yeah…" The two kissed. "We’re even."

"That’s good, I-" Harry yawned. "Oh…"

"Maybe we’ve had enough for tonight," Peter smiled.

"Will you stay with me, Pete? I… I guess it’d be wrong to keep you longer, but…"

Peter sighed, "No, I… I’ll stay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded and embraced Harry. As much as Peter loved Gwen and longed for revenge, he didn’t want to think about it right now.

He and Harry had said earlier they felt like the only two people in the world, but Peter felt now that the description was inaccurate. They had not gotten rid of everyone else in the world; rather they had made a new one. It was a world of lust, a world of love, but most importantly, a world that was a refuge. They had created a world that allowed them to escape from their pains. Drugs didn’t matter here, death never visited, and goblins were left at the gate. But nothing good can last forever, and sorrow and hard choices would inevitably try to destroy their world.

Still, the world existed now… and Peter wouldn’t let it go until the morning.

Peter stroked the palm of his hand down Harry’s face as his blue eyes started to droop closed. Peter’s own head felt heavy as they began to doze off. Harry leaned toward Peter and kissed his forehead.

"Thanks. I… I don’t remember when I’ve been this happy."

"No problem."

"Sleep well, buddy…"

~*~*~

About four hours later, Peter woke up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and got out of bed, sighing as he looked back on the sleeping Harry. There was a lot to think about.

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself as he pulled on his pants. "I want to go after Norman. That punk’s not going to get away with what he did to Gwen." His hand clenched into a fist. "He’s going to pay, no matter what. I don’t care what it takes!"  
Peter looked back at Harry again, "But if I catch him, I’ll have to do two things I don’t want to: reveal my secret identity to the world and drag my best friend’s dad off to jail. Of course, Norman deserves it; it’s something I have to do. Still…" Peter broke off his speech with a sigh. "This is probably really selfish of me, but I love Harry. Once he finds out that I’m the man who brought his father to jail, he’s going to think that I betrayed him!"

The young man growled as he punched the palm of his hand. "Norman, you scum! You’re going to take away the one I love again." He snorted at the cruel irony. "He doesn’t even know it. If he loses, he still wins."

Peter buried his face in his hands, then slowly looked up as his mind met with a great revelation. "Unless, I…tell him who I am…" he suddenly shook his head. "No, I can’t do that. Then again…" Peter looked back at Harry and sighed. "But it might be the only way to… no, there must be another way."

The young man paced back and forth across the room. He turned over different possibilities in his head. There had to be a different option! No matter how he looked at it, though, the option seemed the best. Peter sighed in resignation.

"When I bring Norman in, he’s going to hear it anyway," he reminded himself. "If I tell Harry who I am, and explain that his father needs to be caught so that he can be brought back to sanity… it could soften the blow and maybe help both of us."

Peter walked to the window and stared out at the New York skyline. Row upon row of skyscrapers made black by the night, lit up by the lights of homes and flashy ads. Soon they would all know the truth about him, about Harry’s father. The world would be hard for the both of them.

"But worse if I don’t do this now. I lost Gwen. I hope I can save Harry."

~*~*~

With a yawn and a stretch, Harry Osborn woke up feeling a lot better than he had before. His head hurt a little and he felt weaker than his normal self did, but he could tell he was breaking through the effects of the drugs.

Harry suddenly realized he was alone. "Peter?" he called. He looked around. He wasn’t anywhere in… oh no! Did he imagine it?

He threw the covers off himself and made his way out of bed. Harry’s eyes widened as he felt something squish under his foot.

"Okay…" Harry laughed at himself. "I forgot where the trash is." He picked the condoms off the floor and threw them in the trash bin. As he did so, he heard the sound of the television coming from downstairs.

Harry smiled. "Heh. Pete’s probably watching wrestling or something. I better get down there. If Vlad the Torturer’s fighting, I don’t want to miss it."

The young man continued to talk to himself as he rummaged through his drawers. Despite his illness, Harry’s face was glowing. "It’s weird…I thought I’d be beside myself with guilt, but I’m not. I really feel great!"

The young man sighed. God! He could still feel Peter’s body in his arms. He could taste Peter’s kisses.

Harry picked a green sweater and a pair of jeans from his drawers and started to dress. He was so grateful for what happened. Harry still remembered the fear in his heart when he told Peter he loved him. He remembered his joy when Peter kissed him.

When he was done dressing, Harry walked downstairs to the living room, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "I’ll come from behind him and hug him. Hopefully I’ll really surprise him this time; he always seems to be able to one-up me on surprise attacks. But his face is going to be so funny when he completely freaks out-"

A loud gasp filled the living room as Harry gawked at the television screen. His body turned as stiff and pale as a corpse. His stomach leaped into his throat as he saw the two policemen place Gwen Stacy’s limp, pale body onto a stretcher.

"Earlier this morning, Empire State University student Gwendolyn Stacy was found dead near the George Washington Bridge. The cause of her death at this moment is unknown, however police suspect Spider-Man of being involved-"

In a zombie-like motion, Peter clicked off the television.

Harry struggled to speak. "N… No… It… Oh god…"

Peter slowly turned his head to face his friend. Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of his friend’s face drenched with tears. Summoning all the courage he had, Harry finally found the will to speak.

"Sh-She didn’t dump you… you… you knew about this…"

Peter hung his head. "Yes."

"Wh-Why didn’t you tell me?"

"I didn’t know how," Peter shook his head.

"Oh God!" Harry rushed to Peter and squeezed him with all his strength. "Peter, I’m so sorry!"

Peter clasped Harry back, desperately trying to fight back his mounting sobs.

"Oh God… she’s dead… Peter, I… God! I feel so terrible. Poor Gwen. She didn’t deserve to die." He couldn’t speak any longer. Harry guided Peter’s head to his own shoulder.

Peter shut his eyes as he rested against his friend. He enjoyed Harry’s sympathy, but knew that now was the time to tell Harry the whole truth. He pushed himself away from Harry and looked his friend in the eyes.

"Harry," he began. "There’s something important I have to tell you."

Harry nodded, "Yes?"

"It’s… It’s about your father."

"D-Dad?" Harry’s eyes widened. "What about him?" He couldn’t see how his father fit into all this.

Peter sighed. Just how DO you tell someone his father is a psychopathic murderer? "Um… have you ever heard of schizophrenia?"

"Why does he keep jumping subjects like this?" Harry wondered. "I think so," he said. "That’s the condition where you think you’re two people in one body, right?"

"Yeah, it is. Well…" Peter hung his head.

"Pete, what is it?"

"Harry… your father has that condition. He’s two people in one body, and the other person is… is the Green Goblin."

Harry drew back. "WHAT! The… The WHAT!"

"The Green Gob-"

"I heard you the first time! Peter, if this is some kind of sick joke…!"

"Harry, it’s not a joke. I really wish it was, but it isn’t. You remember when your father used to be out late? When he used to be distant from you. Well, he wasn’t always at work."

"P-Peter, that’s ridiculous! I know it is! When the Goblin was captured, the police told me that Dad helped apprehend him with Spider-Man!"

"Yes, I know." Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of red cloth. "I lied to them."

To Harry’s eyes the cloth looked like a handkerchief at first, but he soon saw the black webs and white eyes of Spider-Man’s mask. "Th-That’s… Pete…?" he laughed nervously. "Th-This is a joke, right buddy? You… you can’t be Spider-Man!"

Peter lay his left hand on the coffee table in front of them, sticking to it. With one swift motion, Peter effortlessly raised the table over his head, and placed it back in its original position.

Harry gulped. "Oh… Oh God you… you aren’t lying… but… wait! You wouldn’t kill Gwen!"

"Of course not!"

"Then… Peter, who did kill her?"

Peter didn’t say a word, but his sad expression gave Harry a clue as to who was the murderer.

"No!" Harry screamed. He slowly edged himself away from Peter, his knuckles white as he gripped the cloth of the couch. "No! He couldn’t have! He… Not my father!"

"I’m sorry, Harry. I wish it wasn’t true as much as you do. Believe me."

Harry shook his head stubbornly. "He can’t be a murderer! He’s my father! I admit he can be harsh at times, but he’d never hurt anyone!"

"Not as himself, but as the Green Goblin, he’s capable of murder."

"No!" Tears streamed down Harry’s face.

Peter placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. "Harry, I’m really sorry. I know how you feel…"

"How could you know how I feel?" spat Harry as he slapped off Peter’s hand. "Have you ever had a father who was thought to be a criminal?"

"Yes!" said Peter as he glared at Harry. "Yes, I have!"

Harry paused. He remembered the time when Peter told him about his now dead parents. They were thought to be spies working for Russia, the enemies of America. Even though that had later been proven wrong, Harry realized it must have been a really rough thing to deal with. The young man hung his head. Yes, if anyone knew about what he was going through, it was Peter. "I’m sorry…" he whispered.

Peter wrapped his arms around Harry. "It’s okay. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just… everything."

Harry squeezed Peter back. "I know… it’s… God! I can’t believe this. My dad a criminal and you… you’re Spider-Man? God! I’m not dreaming, am I? Damn, I wish I were dreaming. But I’m not, huh?"

Peter shook his head, "I’m sorry. I wish I were dreaming too."

"What am I going to do?"

"You don’t have to do anything," Peter explained as he ran the back of his hand along the nape of Harry’s neck. "I can capture your father; I’m sure of it. You can get his lawyer to plead insanity. He’ll get a reduced sentence and they can get him the help he needs."  
Harry grasped Peter’s hand and sighed sadly. His eyes closed in a way that made it seem like Harry’s father was dead. Peter wondered if perhaps Harry felt that way.

"It’s for the best, Har."

"I know. That’s why I’m upset."

Peter sighed as he looked at Harry. He indeed was upset, but he could also see that he understood. "I’m sorry."

"So am I," agreed Harry. "I wish this didn’t have to happen."

Peter squeezed his hand, reassuring his lover and himself.

"I love you, buddy."

"I love you too. And Pete? Help my father. For Gwen and for me."

"I will."

Their lips drew together for a kiss when Peter’s spider-sense screamed. Peter gasped and glanced rapidly around the room.

"What’s wrong?" asked Harry in a concerned voice.

"I don’t know," said Peter. "But something-"

Peter’s heart leaped into his throat when a deranged "Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!" filled the room. "No!" he thought. "Not here."

"Who’s-" Harry started to say.

"We’ve got to go. Now!" Peter yelled.

He grabbed Harry’s hand and began to race upstairs, but it was too late. The bomb crashed through the door window and landed on the stairs, immediately spitting out its noxious gas.  
Harry lost consciousness as soon as he smelled the fumes, but Peter struggled to hold on to reality. He couldn’t fall! He had to get them to safety!

But it was useless. He heard the bursting of the door as he swooned, the roar of the glider’s motor as he fell, and the Goblin’s sneering "Parker…" as he hit the ground.

~*~*~

The cold, hard metal running across his chest and arms was the first thing Peter became aware of as he awoke. The second was his surroundings: a dark warehouse packed with tied cardboard boxes and silver containers marked by orange biohazard stickers. After a brief look around the room, the third realization turned out to be that he was alone in the room, and as he heard the heavy fall of footsteps moving toward him, Peter also became aware that he would not be alone for long.

Out of the darkness slithered the green face, its expression a mix of hatred and smug confidence.

"My, my…" hissed the Goblin. "How the noble have fallen. And in more ways than one, it appears."

"Shut up, Norman!" yelled Peter as he struggled against the bar which held him.

"I think you’re in no position to give orders, boy," snarled the green villain. "As you see, I am now the one in power, and with you out of the way, I will gain even more. More than you can even fathom. There will be no more bouts of amnesia. No more defeats. I’ll be ruler of the underworld. The city… the world will be mine. But best of all, you will pay for all the wreckage you have brought upon my life!"

"You killed Gwen, Norman," spat Peter. "You mercilessly took the life of a woman who had never done anything to you! You can’t complain that your life is ruined."

"Silence, you deluded fool!" The Goblin thrust a purple-gloved finger at Peter. "You have no right to lecture me on morality. Not after what you did to my son!"

Peter felt like he had been punched in the stomach. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" asked the Goblin in an acid tone. "Did you think I didn’t know? Did you think I didn’t see what you were doing as I looked in my son’s window and saw your cursed mouth around his dick!"

"You what? You couldn’t have done that without me knowing. My spider-sense…" Peter stopped. "Oh, no," he thought. He remembered during oral sex when Harry had ripped his hair. His spider-sense hadn’t gone off because of that. It was because Norman had seen them. Peter shut his eyes tightly. God, he’d seen them! That scumbag had seen them.  
The Goblin gave Peter a look that could freeze a pond in summer. "The only reason I didn’t kill you then was because I didn’t want to hurt Harry, though perhaps I should have. You’ve already ruined him!"

"Ruined him?" Peter snarled. "I gave Harry love when he asked for it. Just like I loved Gwen! But you must not know about that, because you never loved Harry. If you did, you would have stayed with him while he was sick. You would have gotten him to a hospital without caring about your reputation. You would have taken care of him instead of running off and killing an innocent girl!"

"Liar!" the Goblin growled. "You forced yourself upon him!"

"I did not!" Peter said with indignation. "I’d never do something so horrible."

The Goblin lost no time taking advantage of this struck nerve. "Ah! The brave, noble Spider-Man! The good scholarship student Peter Parker! I wonder how the world will react when they see you for what you truly are. A sodomite! A rapist! Tell me, my boy, did you force yourself upon that blond prostitute of yours, too?"

The camel’s back had been broken. Using all of his strength and adrenaline, Peter broke through the bonds and flung himself at the Goblin. His right hand clamped around the Goblin’s throat while his left slammed against the villain’s jaw at the end of every sentence.

"I never raped Gwen! Ever! And I didn’t rape Harry! I would never do anything so horrible and disgusting. I leave crap like that to you!"

The angry young man raised his fist again when he heard a soft voice behind him.

"Dad…? Peter…?"

Peter froze, then turned to see his friend stumble out from the shadows.

"Peter, what’s going on?" Harry asked as he took his hand. "I just woke up here and…"

"Get your hands off my son!" the Goblin shot an electricity bolt at Peter, knocking the wind out of him. The bat-like fiend then jumped upon his glider and snatched Harry as he zoomed past. The young man cried out in fright.

"Shut up, you coward," snapped the demonic man. The Goblin then sneered at Peter, who was just starting to recover. "You’ll pay for all you’ve done, Parker." The villain raised a fiery pumpkin bomb above his head. "You’ll pay with your life!"

"Dad! No!"

Peter and the Goblin both looked at the one who had spoken in surprise.

"Harry?" Peter whispered hopefully.

"Dad, I… I know you’ve been through a lot and that business has been bad," Harry explained.  
The Goblin’s visage slowly formed into a twisted scowl.

"B-But Peter really means well. H-He helped me…" Harry gulped as he felt his father’s eyes boring into his head. "I-I-I know he can help you – gak!" he choked as the older man’s burly hand squeezed his neck.

"Norman, let him go!" demanded Peter, but the Goblin paid his foe no heed.

"You ungrateful little brat! You side with him over me? You side with the man who raped you over your father?"

Harry gasped as the Goblin stared him down. "I… I…"

Peter glared at Norman, then turned to his friend. "Harry, you know that’s not true. You told me how happy the sex made you."

"He’s lying to you, Harry! He’s been out to get the both of us since day one."

"I’m your friend! I’m the one who stayed with you!"

"I’m your father and I know what’s best for you!"

"He’s insane, Harry! He needs help and you know that!"

"He’s our enemy! He’ll hurt you just like that red-headed bitch once did!"

"I won’t! You know me better than that! I trusted you with my secrets. Secrets I never told anyone! Why would I lie to you now?

"Make a choice, Harry. Him or I…"

A lump formed in Harry’s throat at those words. Fear shook his body as he began to sweat.  
"Ch-choose? How can you ask me to-"

"I said, ‘Make a choice.’ Now make one!"

"I-I…" Harry stammered. His eyes darted back and forth between his scowling father and his hopeful friend, finally resting on Peter.

Harry struggled with his next words. "I’m…I’m sorry."

Peter’s heart skipped a beat.

"But…But Peter’s right. Dad, I-I know you need help."

"You trust that rapist over me!" the Goblin screamed in rage.

"D-Dad, he didn’t rape me. I… I asked him to have sex. I…" Harry gulped. "I love him. I-Aaaauuggh!" Harry screamed as the electric shocks from the Goblin’s gloves wracked his body.

"You spineless little worm," growled the Goblin as he threw Harry against the wall.

"Harry!" cried Peter.

"You pathetic excuse for a son!"

Harry pressed his hurt body against the wall as his father continued.

"You’re worthless! You disgust me. You never could do anything worthwhile, anyway. I suppose I should have expected this trash from-Argh!" the Goblin cried out as Peter’s swift uppercut crashed against his jaw.

Peter’s eyes turned dark with rage. "Don’t you ever talk about him like that again. Ever!"  
With his hands bent into claws, the Goblin leaped upon Peter, aiming to strangle him. His foe responded with a hard punch to his stomach, stunning him for a moment.

"Harry, get out of here," Peter yelled, taking advantage of the situation.

"But what about you?" Harry asked.

"I’ll be fine. Just run!"

"But…"

"Run!"

Harry paused as he glanced sadly at the two struggling figures. He then made a dash for the exit.

"No!" The Goblin grasped a pumpkin bomb and threw it in Harry’s direction in an attempt to block his path.

Peter’s spider-sense suddenly went off. "Osborn, those chemicals! The bomb will-"

With a deafening boom, the bomb crashed into the chemical container and immediately consumed it in a burst of quickly spreading flames. Using all the strength he could muster, Peter leaped in Harry’s direction. He stretched out his arms and caught Harry by the chest, then leaped again towards the nearest window.

Peter’s spider-sense went off, but he still was out of time. The next containers exploded, throwing him asunder. He and Harry crashed through the window and landed with a thud on the pavement below.

~*~*~

The doctors said it was a miracle.

The explosion had been devastating. When they recovered the body of Norman Osborn, he had been so badly burned that his clothes and features were indistinguishable. They could only identify him by his dental records.

But even still, Peter and Harry had survived. Harry’s elbow needed a cast and he had suffered some head injuries and Peter had sprained his leg and had some cuts and bruises, but their survival was truly miraculous, the doctors said. The two of them were very lucky.  
Peter couldn’t share their enthusiasm.

It had been a month since that day. Spider-Man had left the house at least two hours ago and had been out web slinging. He shot a web line to a nearby pole, tugged it to ensure stability and swung off. His leg had gotten better, of course. In fact, he’d been crime fighting again for at least a week now, but it hadn’t given him much joy. Nothing had.  
Even the fact that Gwen’s murderer was dead didn’t help him. She still wasn’t alive and she never would be again. Plus, Norman’s death, rather than being some great event where revenge was finally extracted, had been a pointless accident. That thought only made him feel empty.

Spider-Man sighed as he landed on the building roof. He stared out at the glass and steel canyons of New York City. He couldn’t remember when he felt this alone.

Harry’s head injuries hadn’t caused him any permanent damage, but his memory of the night had been wiped out. He didn’t remember the explosion, the other identities of Peter and his father, or why they were there (which wasn’t so bad because Peter was then able to lie and say that they had been at the warehouse because Norman was giving them a tour).

And chances were good he didn’t remember about him and Peter.

He certainly had never mentioned it. In fact, they never talked much anymore. Mostly because Peter had made sure to rarely be around when Harry was in their apartment. He couldn’t stand the sight of Harry these days. Whenever he looked at him, Peter felt like he would either burst out crying or fly into a rage. How could the one thing he wanted, the one thing that had given him joy be rendered untouchable? It just wasn’t fair!  
He had tried to put Harry out of his mind. Peter even went out on a date with one of the girls in his science class but it was a total disaster. He barely looked at her the whole time, not one word was said during the dinner or the movie, and she glared at him when he tried to give her a goodnight kiss.

It didn’t matter so much, except that the hopelessness of his situation became more evident. When he saw couples walking arm in arm he wanted Harry on his own. When they kissed he longed for Harry’s lips. There weren’t any women who interested him (nor were there any other men, for that matter). Even Mary Jane Watson, who Peter always found attractive, turned cold to him.

Spider-Man sighed sadly. "Give it a month, Pete," he told himself. "Maybe two. You’ll be back to your normal self soon enough. You can get through this.

With that, Spider-Man swung home. He climbed through the window of his bedroom and began to undress himself. He had changed into blue jeans and a gray sweater when Harry entered.  
Peter glanced back at him. Harry was still wearing that cast of his but other than that, he looked the same insecure yet nervy Harry that he was before. Peter wished he could go back so easily.

"Hi, Pete," said Harry.

"…Hi," Peter focused at a spot on the wall as Harry continued to talk.

"Jeez, it…I don’t know, it’s so much to take in." Harry sighed as he hung up his coat. "I can’t stop thinking about the accident. Was it a month ago? God, it feels like yesterday."

"I know."

Harry shook his head. "I feel like it all can’t be true. Both of them… dead. It just feels so wrong."

"Yeah," Peter whispered after a pause.

Harry walked over to Peter and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Pete, is something wrong?"

Peter plucked off Harry’s hand. "Please, just don’t." He walked over to the other side of the room.

"Well, I…" Harry glanced at Peter, then turned and picked up some of his school books, studying their covers as if they revealed a great, universal answer. He sighed and gulped. His heart rate increased as he said his next words. "Peter…"

"What?"

"I need some help with my science homework."

Peter sighed with irritation. "Can’t it wait…?"

"Actually, it’s pretty important that we do it now."

Peter felt annoyed, but he gave in. The two sat down at their kitchen table and Harry opened up a page in his notebook.

"Okay… think you could look at these questions for me, Pete?"

Peter took the notebook from Harry, rubbed his eyes, and looked at the page. He gasped in surprise as he read it.

"1.) Do you love me? Y/N"

Peter’s hands shook in excitement as he circled the "Y."

"2.) Do you want us to be together? Y/N"

Peter circled the "y" again.

"3.) I don’t have a third question. I just wanted to say that if my silence has hurt you, it’s because I was scared. I tried to talk to you, but I could see in your eyes that you never wanted to. I was afraid it was because you didn’t love me anymore. I hope that isn’t the case. Here’s question three, actually. Are you sure? Y/N"

Peter looked straight into Harry’s eager blue eyes for the first time in weeks. "Yes," he whispered. "I’ve never been more sure."

"Peter!"

Peter stood up and opened his arms to receive Harry’s embrace. They squeezed each other as if they never wanted to let go. Peter felt a tear roll down his face.

"I’m sorry," whispered Harry. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was afraid you didn’t love me anymore."

"Oh, no! I’ve always loved you. God, Harry! I thought you forgot! I thought the amnesia had taken it all away."

Harry shook his head and pressed his lips against Peter’s. His tongue delved into Peter’s mouth. Once again he could feel Peter’s own wet tongue. For a second time, he learned the taste of Peter’s lips.

No, he could never forget.

The End.


End file.
